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A scarlet tanager sits primly on the rail
Of the new fence erected near the meadow,
He eyes me stroll as I take in every detail
The path to the woodland is rather narrow,

Infrequently used, it is rapidly overgrowing
I am brushing against the yellow yarrow,
As hottest of summer is fast approaching
The meadowland has nary a cooling shadow.

Happily, I note the salt lick has disappeared
I hope its purposes were well-intentioned,
Certainly not as the hunter’s ploy, I feared
In a previous post, I am sure I mentioned.

I feel the coolness of the pleasant breeze
As I approach the edge of the tree line
Where meadow gives way to aspen trees,
And further on, a stand of taller pine. 

I shall follow the trail through the wood
To the river which I can faintly hear, ahead
Where I saw a huge buck in full manhood,
And I have seen signs of where he bed.
   
It is a good two-mile hike, not exhausting
But I stop to examine new growth along
And for moments to reflect, I am pausing,
I’m encouraged by the tanager’s song. 

Written June 18, 2022

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